


Fairytale Lies Along

by Ratmor



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Dimension Travel, Drama, Endgame Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan, Fairy Tale Retellings, Fantasy, Magic, Multi, Original Character(s), POV Male Character, Soulmates, Time Travel, Translation, True Love's Kiss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2019-08-18 17:53:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16521878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ratmor/pseuds/Ratmor
Summary: It seems, Emma Swan always hadThat strange voice in her head...Lukomorje remains off the mapThat's why there's no wayInside the world of fairy tale.But that was just a saying for bond,Beware, Fairytale Lies Along[Be sure to read the author's commentary on the work, there is important information.]





	Fairytale Lies Along

**Author's Note:**

> That's the story I’m currently writing (kind of celebrating the end of the series that I enjoyed but never actually liked the outcome). It came up long time ago when I got the idea that Chernobog was the only one of slavic mythology in Disney and in OUaT accordingly. Well, couple of years before I watched the first season of OUaT they, meaning Disney, made a movie (for the Russian Commonwealth mostly) about the Stoneheart Princess and the Book of Masters (2009). Very stupid one if you ask me, but I liked the idea. 
> 
> So, years later my friend started to torture me with how she wanted me to make a story of what I think of OUaT. And I decided - Why Not? After all, there was a good saying in our fairytales. 
> 
> Fairytale lies right along but has a lead that to reality belong =) 
> 
> That story is based on the theory that there are different universes for each desicion you make and all of them are separate from each other. So, basically, timetravel, dimension travel and all that jazz.
> 
> And one more thing - a slowly building swanqueen, because I like the idea and I am swen.
> 
> Pure joy to write it but that’s the question. Should I even bother and translate it or the fandom (that is not in it's best days right now, I must admit) won’t be interested in such an inconvenient story? Tell me if you're interested. 
> 
> Post Scriptum: There are more relationships than tags but they aren't major so I decided not to mention them.
> 
> P.p.s. Basically it's Russian fairytales (Disney did it too, so it's not even out of canon) in OUaT. Prince Ivan the Fool in Storybrooke, and Emma Swan is not the same anymore. Based on that two Disney movies for Russian Commonwealth and famous russian fairytales. Operation OUT theory used for making it weirder.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 1-7 because they are really tiny and the plot is really slow-burn

Saying

Was it close or maybe far?

Was it low or maybe high?

The hero was gone,

Dispelled, couldn’t survive.

The hero was not just made by the Wise

His glorious deeds and force are recognized.

The Magic’s become an escape

For his mind that was ready to break.

But his half-life only lasted

While his soul being blasted

Leeched off other big known heroes

And then vanish, coming back to zeroes.

In those heroes’ bodies he dwelled

Being in the shadows bent 

He simply watched them and followed

Because his powers were hollow.

Just try and show me the hero

That is not quite strong-willed!

So he took the path of a villain

Knowing how to erode will of hero

To zero.

He got caught with that one little girl

That in future will master protecting her world.

So they fought in their minds’ battlefield

Even if they had friendship already built.

And that was just a saying for bond

You must know - Fairytale Lies Along.

Chapter 1: The Hope

Heroically getting out of bed, Emma Swan heroically went to the bathroom and began to heroically brush her teeth.

Everything as usual, actually.

In this life one could add “heroically” to every action - and never hit the target. It even seemed to me that somewhere in my Curse something clearly failed, because earlier, even when I got incarnated into women, I was in the heat of struggle and resistance, heroism and dedication. Only at such moments could I bring everything subtly to the point that the hero accepted my promised help, and I captured the body. Because very few of them knew that all magic has a price, and if I do not offer this price, then something is not right here very obviously. Well, they believed, since I was with them in one body and didn’t possesed it the same day I got there, and I really liked to pretend that I was the same as they were, a hero, damned by a villain into eternal existence in the form of a ghost of former strength, so I want to sincerely help them.

Maybe once I was.

“Well, how are you there, alien?” - it was heard in my direction on the telepathic channel configured between us. - “Why are you silent?”

“Too long to wait till I die” - I barely restrained a laugh and asked in response. - “And why asking?”

“You got silent for a long time. Lonely?”

“Your birthday, huh?”

I was again blown up in the hope that she would not notice, as many did not notice, and sell me her body for a little knowledge, which my heroic ability can give her, yes. 

“I have already offered to find your parents, you just need to allow me to control the body, Emma, I will create a ritual and direct the energy - I’m still a Hero so I’d be glad to help! Or maybe we’d finally find your son? You didn’t listen to me, when I said that that guy was not the best company, even if I was …”

“Listen, you Hero, shut up and go to hell!”

She threw a toothbrush in the sink and seriously looked in the mirror. Once again I saw the usual beautiful high-cheeked face, golden curls and bright eyes coloured asure because of what she felt, there were marks of paste on her lips, and the expression was gloomy and even angry.

Her appearance, by the way, is quite heroic, and the girl clearly monitors the ability of her body to kick ass. But she had something obviously wrong with her mind, if we compare it with typical heroes. She is suspicious and rather clever, even reminded me of myself long time ago. And this is not the best quality in relation to those who want to take her body. And she, of course, was lucky - since she never mastered the magic at the proper level, I also do not have access to her to accumulate enough strength to move to a new level of possession of the body. Those sparks that are available to her, just do not count!

Her enormous potential was simply lost in the absence of training, and the fact that I absolutely don’t intend to teach much, either, but I don’t feel my guilt. It was her parents who abandoned her in her childhood, even maybe because of that same magic, bright and alive, that sleeps and only occasionally tosses. And once again she was unlucky with me. I wanted to capture the body, and I didn’t have the need to train her well, thus becoming attached to her too much. Still, I am not Dark, I am mostly Evil, and these are two big differences, and therefore I cannot kill the person to whom I will have bonds of teacher relationship. And still, I couldn’t get rid of this feeling of guardianship over her that lasted for so many years, no matter what intentions I ever had. It never seemed catastrophic to me, not at all, because she feels my attitude towards her, as we share one body, and I just need to be friendly to do what I wish, yes…

“Hero, hey, Hero?”

She called me couple of minutes later on our mental connection.

“Sing a song like in childhood, be a friend?”

She rinsed her mouth and spat, then again looked in the mirror, but she wore much more kind look than before, and explained.

“It’s me who is sad, to be honest.”

Yes, it was still impossible to step aside until the end. I smiled to myself - well, what a friend I am to you, you fool, my friendly attitude is like a goat’s milk. I am the conqueror of the Queen of the Sea, Kaschei the Immortal and the Iron Wolf, a friend of the Gray Wolf, Bulat the Fighter, Nicanor the Hero and the Firebird, I am still the husband of Vasilisa the Wise, and I will never stop being the son of Tsar Vseslav, who is not here and never would be. And I live in the body that don’t belong me and live in the country that I don’t belong. Well, I have been cursed in disembodiedness for too long. And I no longer have those friends, and I still cannot go to Mother Russia to try to find something. This stubborn girl doesn’t let me. Otherwise I’d try to find my very first realm, because this memories are the only thing left from me the Hero. The memory of the past long gone.

Emma could understand me whatever language I chose to sing mentally, but I still decided to do myself a favor and sing something in Russian. Although I still don’t consider her to be my friend, but Swan thinks differently, and so far it is beneficial for me.

“Make some coffee, Swan, I like the taste,” I grinned. - “Then I will sing. You know the terms of the deal.”

Emma smiled to the mirror and, wiping her face, walked over to the stove.

Whether the wind it was or the bird

Flapped its’ wings under me

Only a feather spins up in the sky

Over the long empty nest.

Howling blizzard sings her song

Over the vast sleeping fields

Or you can hear the cry in the sky

Cranes flying away.

Sadness shall pass and bitter shall melt

Do not cry, soul, this is not the first time

Fly as easy as feather

Fly back home! Fly home!

(https://youtu.be/LjphKWJ90Ls)

“It’s so… evenly with you, Hero. Life seems less lonely and hollow”

She said that into the air, and I felt a tear on my… our cheek, and I cursed myself twice for not thinking about the meaning of this song properly. And then she made a stupid joke.

“I don’t even want to go to a shrink anymore to lure you away or something.”

“Well, then do not go. You’re trying to visit him for a couple of years now, ” I commented. - “I can’t disappear.”

Today was her 28-th birthday, we were in Boston and she was finishing a fairly profitable business. And nothing foreshadowed trouble. I couldn’t imagine this day might end with the appearance of hope.

Notes:  
Well, that's not the entire story, there are 10 more chapters written but I had no reason to translate. Need feedback.

 

Chapter 2: Family Matters

Summary:  
Well, she fared well before  
But he found her and no more

Notes:  
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Emma and I had fun in the company of a cake, sparkling wine and a pleasant, non-binding girl, in short - Becky. This type of girl could be picked up only in bars, clubs or by lucky chance somewhere in the art gallery, but in our case it was obviously not an accident, because my dear mistress could not bear to calmly walk around museums and other similar "dullness" as she aptly expressed each time I dragged her there. Certainly, the only thing to blame was my insatiable enthusiasm in exploring this world, so my girl visited that kind of places enough for a lifetime. And while we had fun, I still couldn’t suspect anything about the approaching bearer, so to speak, of all my hopes and dreams for this boring, almost non-magical world. Therefore, we enjoyed the company of a half-naked beauty, I must admit quite successfully enjoyed, and she was already ready to spend the night with us. “With us” meant - I felt and saw everything, despite the fact that I’m removed from direct control of what’s happening.

Well, I don’t know how Emma felt deep inside, but some time ago I was nauseated by the greedy glances that idiot debtor was throwing at us. He tried to escape us so ridiculously, that Emma, who, due to my significant presence in her head and the equally significant presence of my rather gloating humor, learned how to manage her face at a decent level, still couldn’t handle the situation without sincere laughter. And she laughed on the way back to our apartment, when the face grimace and the convulsive actions of the jerk resurfaced in our dialogue. And in order to dispel this filthy feeling after unpleasant words, though they came from a complete stranger, I offered to call a friend who showed interest in Emma and they already have enough dates to have hours of sexual activity, as I call it, trying not to look and make myself jealous.

Swan was not too amorous, and it always seemed to me that I didn't play a very important role in that quality of her character. I was the only adult who had been with her throughout her life, even though I told myself not to give her any extra advice or help just because it’s a good thing to do. After the death of Cleo Fox, a woman who was chasing my careless Swan, I stopped giving advice at all and stopped saying anything other than "Decide for yourself, Emma Swan." "Why didn't you talk me out?" - It was the first thing she constantly told me when she didn’t listen to my advice, especially when it was about that woman’ death. Although it didn’t come to a quarrel, because Emma knew very well from my tales, which I rashly told her as a child, that I could not heal the dead. For this you need the Death Water and The Living Water, both. But in this world there were absolutely no such thing, and she didn’t want to give me control over the body to create the ritual. Cold blood, indeed. Throughout my entire stay in her body, I was like: “I’m the only one who understand you!” or “Oh, these modern dishonourable people,” or “You deserve more!” and, that one is the most used: “Try not to trust my ass-based feeling again when I say this person is sketchy!" Yes, yes, I am an evil freak, a manipulative pig, and, in general, I’m extremely aggressively defend my property from the encroachments of all kinds of other freaks, yes!

Well, I still feel everything that Emma feels, and her ignorance of my words about this Neal, who left her soul with disturbing wound, was based on the fact that I constantly grumbled about any guy looking obliquely at my beautiful girl, Emma. It seems, that I already considered this body my own to some extent, and that’s why I had such an attitude - Emma had to shut me up every now and then until she grew out of her teenage surges and began to listen to me more often.

The question arises - why I never moved into her body, taking advantage of childhood and the deplorable situation? It's just because I never do that! Children are inviolable, and the child can not, should not be absorbed by me. I didn’t think about the original reason for that decision, but I never had many problems with little Emma. I soothed her, sang songs when she asked, told her about my life in the guise of rhymed legends or tales, forced her to read, and that last one was for avoiding the horrible death from boredom in these many years. I would even associate myself with her parent, I had to educate her so much and so much to invest in her, but I would never trade my own undivided and indivisible, of course if you don’t take into account the possible dismemberment, body for her friendship. I could tell myself that only thing for sure even when Emma was an incredibly touching lost being, close to me in spirit and literally brought up by me from her very self-awareness of herself as a person.

Emma Swan, by the way, could be not only touching. She often pleased me with flashes of anger, which gave me a microscopic opportunity to pick up the drops of magic that emanated from her during that display of emotions, and it sparkled with such a bright flash when the doorbell interrupted the removal of the panties of our excited girlfriend.

“Oh, fuck this late guest!” - I growled and moaned with doom. - “Emma, your birthday and it’s eve are too full with surprises.”

Emma irritably pushed the beautiful girl away and went to open the door.

First, my ass-based feeling howled even more than when I met Neil or that strange girl, Lily.  
Second, the boy said that Emma is his mother. The boy looked like someone else, but not Emma - I thought so at first glance at him. At his age Emma was much less self-confident, she never had this deceit and manipulation, which he showed later when we tried to expel him, and I personally suggested just throwing him out the door by the scruff. At the same time, I sent to the devil my non-quite-immutable rule-on-advice, again. And in spite of my old age extremes like paranoia and grumbling, I can't help but remember Emma when she was ten years old - this is exactly about the time when I finally and fully showed up, making a course of action with this active kid without a tsar in her head, really, and that means she was “flaky” and “rudderless”. The boy was dark-haired and quite puny. He definitely was not from a poor or especially unhappy family. Emma and I have always noticed these - their eyes were different, they were too incredulous for the age of the child, but this boy's eyes were alive. He smiled quite sincerely, didn’t try to hide and shrink under the stern look that Emma gave him for the interrupted party. And these are the signs from which I drew a conclusion - parents rarely shout at the boy, spoil him well and love him with high quality, I’d say.

“He seems to be lucky with his family,” I said to Emma as she walked off to the door with Becky, who was looking at the child with undisguised interest. - “Well dressed, taught independence, not intimidated, not clogged. For example, my father sold me before I was born to the Queen of the Sea because he couldn’t drink from the Living Creek asking for permission first, as everyone does. The King, for fuck’s sake, unable to just ask for the cure. At least, that’s why I met my future wife, yes... And since I was the firstborn, and very foolish as my father thought, it…”

“Listen, old man, stop nostalgia! I have already heard this story about the Queen of the Sea five times!”

In fact, I felt Emma’s panic and focused my attention on what was happening.

“A child came to me, I have no right to even see him, after what I did to him!”

“Then your foolishness is enough! Let's get the boy back!” - I snapped back and looked at the situation closer, trying to understand what Emma feels right now. - “I understand everything, you do not want to remember your oh not the best choice in life, but the result of this choice now stands before you, my darling!”

“Enough with this "my darling"! I constantly ask you to stop because it is contagious, and I repeat after you this mocking "my darling" without any need for it!”

“Emma, if there was no need, then throw at me ... Well, take what you can throw at me, then throw it!”

I laughed, forcing Swan to roll her eyes, and the boy, her son, took the grimace at his expense and put an extremely discouraging remark at the end of his speech.

“And if you won’t agree, I will tell the police that you kidnapped me!”

Emma couldn’t stand it and laughed, as if echoing me, and I literally just finished laughing in our inner world.

“Kid, you are very clever for your age and independent, yes!” - she trustingly patted him on the back - he sat on a bar stool and drank orange juice from the bottle throat. - “But you should know that the testimony of two adults that you yourself found this apartment and that address would beat your babble on this. Study the laws, kid! And please, if you come to stranger’s house, could you still ask permission or at least drink from a cup?”

Emma sighed, took the juice out of his hands and twisted the lid.

“And now, kid, we take my cake and... now completely your juice - after all, you drooled into it - and we go to your family. Would you like a sandwich? I’ve got with tuna and egg. Ok?”

He looked incredulously into our eyes, as if surprised at such an easy agreement on his request, but Emma — I knew — understood that she had no special choice, because she had a criminal record even if it was appealed and kind of amnestied, and that stopped her from any calls to the police. Emma didn’t wait for an immediate response from the child and asked.

\- So, where to go?

\- Storybrooke, Maine.

***

"Fairy tales?" - Emma repeated my thoughts, looking mistrustfully at the book that the boy was holding in his hands. - “Is this a fairytale book?”

“This is not just a fairy tale!” - the boy answered without any hesitation and I was somehow immediately alerted, after all, he was ten years old, not five. At this age, not everyone believes in Santa. - “It's true! Every story in this book actually happened!”

“Of course it did…”

I am quite sure that Emma did not argue with the kid, not because she was sorry to debunk the boy’s illusions. She was screaming at me now, panicking again, although in the real world she was simply frowning.

“Are you kidding me?! Is it contagious? Is it transmitted genetically? Is this some mutation? He thinks that fairy tales are real, and a relic of one of these fairy tales lives in my head!”

“Not these!” - I would have shook my head if I could. - “These are yours,” - I emphasized this word especially, - “fairy tales. Not ours, Emma. Not the ones I come from. We don’t tell tales of the Queen and the Snow White. We have other heroes, you know.”

“And how do you know that the book says about the Queen and Snow White?” - she was surprised, but didn’t forget to follow the road - we turned onto the highway.

“I read briefly just now”, - I answered and gave a laugh. “If you don’t see something, it doesn’t mean that I don’t see it, Emma. I need one glance to remember.”

“And why haven't I graduated the University with this ability yet?” - Emma sighed, but her sarcastic question didn’t require an answer, and I knew how much I would infuriate her if I answer it.

“Of course, because you're a stupid lazy bird,” - I drawled with pleasure. - “And not a swan, but a penguin. If you don’t kick it, it won’t fly!”

“Did you believe me?” - Henry decided to ask after a long silence and reached for a bag of juice and sandwiches. - “May I...”

“It’s much better when you remember to ask,” - Emma nodded but stopped short that parenting attempt. - “So what were you saying about fairy tales? What’s that about?”

“They are about you. You are there.”

The child shrugged and, putting the book aside, dug into a sandwich with indescribable pleasure written on his face, despite the fact that just couple of seconds ago the car was slightly inclined aside because Emma was a bit dumbfounded.

“It seems you have problems, kid…”

Emma sighed, straightening the steering wheel, and was hardly surprised when she heard the boy’s answer.

“Yeah. And you fix them.”

***

“Thus, the Sandwich Eater, I have a task for you!” - said Emma, when we moved into this Storybrooke of his and drove up to the clock tower. - “You must make your parents finish my cake with me on board. Judging by your ability of whining and persuasion, you are quite capable of it. It is going to melt to hell, and the holiday is already ruined enough. Though we will talk over a cup of tea about your behavior…"

We discussed Emma's further behavior strategy, and in the end she decided to ask kid’s parents why the boy ran away from home - Emma herself had similar runaways, and the reason of those wasn’t the great love of the adoptive family, for sure. But there was something obviously wrong in all that, and how he could find Emma was an unsolved mystery yet. I felt something strange somewhere on the border of Yavi, the Reality, but it could be just an ancient burial ground of some Indians, or a nasty cemetery, so for now I decided not to tell my mistress that I was slightly shaken by the thin Border in this terrain.

“I have no parents, I only have a mother,” - our little jerk replied. - “And she is evil!”

“Evil?” - Emma slowed down in the middle of the main square of the town and got out of the car. - “Get out!”

He obeyed, and I murmured to Emma, not to dare to hurt that little asshole, but she waved it off and sat down in front of the child so as to see his lowered eyes, shyly in search of a way out of the situation.

“Do you even think what you say? She is not evil! She is the person who became your family, when I - hear me - I was the very first evil in your life! And, you know, boy, life is not a damn collection of fairy tales - you are very lucky at least with the fact that you do not have to climb out of your skin just to eat enough.”

“My name is Henry!” - he exclaimed and looked us straight in the eyes. - “She doesn't love me. She only pretends to love. And you can help break the curse!”

“What other curse?” - Emma lowered the tone, during the interrogation of the little boy, asking me an extremely urgent question. Urgent for me, mostly.

“Old man, do you think he is talking about you? You yourself told me that this is your curse and you don’t know how to remove it ... Maybe it’s not by chance that everything's happening now? The kid fell into the hands of this book or… oh, backwards, and you always said that there are legends about you in our world, which definitely correspond to reality you lived in.”

I want to take your body, and you want to help me. Ironic, really. I would grin if I could. There’s too much inaccessible things to me that I would like to feel, that’s why I’ve long been thinking about how to finally seize that receptacle. And I'll pretend to be who you want as long as it is needed. I won’t repay good with good, no, that would be a mistake. Although, I wonder what Vasilisa would say on how exactly and how much I changed during this time? And does she know that I am alive, if finally I got lucky and came across the reality that’s parallel to mine?

“Emma, my darling, do you even know how to experience brain activity? I told you there was something about Snow White and the Queen in the book. Read it - and you would never find either Ivan, the son of tsar Vseslav, nor the daughters of Koschei, nor himself with his Sea Queen wifey. Although, on the other hand, no one knows what’s on the other side of the Infinity Forest…”

My mocking words were not particularly important to Emma, in any case, that was clearly unnoticeable. She didn't respond, continuing dialogue with the boy. He explained her exactly what kind of curse we are talking about. And it was clearly not mine.

“Look at the clock,” - the boy pointed to the tower, where the clock should've been hitting something around midnight long ago. - “Time is frozen here. The Evil Queen did it with her curse. She sent all of the Enchanted Forest here.”

“So, now I understand” - Emma put her hands on her hips and paraphrased. “The Evil Queen sent all the heroes of fairy tales that you told me about to this place?”

“Yeah, and now they are trapped.”

“Stuck in time and locked up in Storybrooke of Maine? Urban fantasy looks cool only in big cities, you know.”

Sarcasm obvious feel I in the Force... but she is right - I haven’t heard of such spells. My wife could, knew and practiced to transform the dead into a living, to unwind time, or with the help of mavka-navka, little magical fairy creatures, to collect magic and use it for whatever she wished to built. She also was quite good with fire and learned from her grandmother how to pick up soul-skulls and use them for magical purposes. But to clear the memory of all that people, not even for forever, when the cure is possible…

This is either hopeless stupidity, or such conditions were written into the curse, that wasn’t written by the Queen. So, the point is - it was the writing of someone else but that Evil Queen. Approximately and apparently she’s called like that as I was called the Terrible once upon a time, yet never Dark, this is a slightly different level. There was no other choice, and if there was, then the achievement of the goal was more important. Although I can’t even imagine how much you must not want to kill your enemies, the Queen... Instead of simply turning the whole reality into Stone or something like that, as the Stone Princess once wanted to do, and she was the blood of Yagg’s blood, who have protect the Reality because of that blood... That Queen bothered herself too much for petty avenge. Although, I think, the same thing guided the one who planted my soul into this semblance of the Underworld.

That Queen had not only the desire to make her enemies suffer, but had the desire to rule and entertain her Ego. After all, I cannot be compared to a large number of people to fit in the kingdom.

“It’s true!”

“So why don't they all just leave?” - Emma tried to appeal to reason, while I was silent, thinking about what is happening.

“They can not! If they try, bad things happen!”

Henry also seemed to appeal to reason, but for Emma it was clearly not an argument, and the boy was not allowed to explain more. We were interrupted.

“Henry!’ - slightly bald ginger man with a dalmatian on a leash approached. - “What are you doing here?” - he looked at us with a worried look and asked Emma. - “Everything is good?”

“I'm fine, Archie,” - the boy immediately started to stroke the dog, that showed his close acquaintance with a man who smiled uncertainly in the direction between Emma and Henry.

“And who are you?”

“I’m just bringing him home.”

Obviously Emma didn’t want to make new acquaintances here, as well as I really wouldn’t want to, if it’s not so suspicious and not connected to fairy tales. Once I asked Emma to look for something from the history of the Russian lands. The search ended in folklore, and most of the adventures from fairy tales named folk or based on them were true, but incredibly distorted, and that probably happened with…

Do I even believe it?!

“She is my mother, Archie” - said the kid, solding out my darling Emma for nothing.

“Not really,” - Emma clarified and asked Archie. - “Do you know about adoption?”

“Ah, yes,” - he let the dog off the leash and it came up to us, sniffed Emma's knee, and Swan immediately began patting it on withers. - “He goes to therapy. I had to find out.”

“Therapy? Kid, it gets harder for you to convince me, honestly!”

“Convince you?” - Archie looked at Emma inquisitively.

“No worries, we both know what I mean!”

Emma smiled awkwardly, winked at Henry, who wanted to answer, but realized that his mother had finally behaved like an adult who had learned a bitter experience and understood that the voice in her head was almost as serious as believing in a fairytale world, and very few of the “caring adults” will like it to such an extent that they decide not to do anything about it.

“Oh, he told you too!” - Archie's face lit up. - “So, what are you doing here?”

“I am searching for his mother's house,” - she shrugged and added. - “I think you could tell me the address, or maybe you want to take him there yourself…”  
“Oh, no, no,” - Archie’s smile became tense, as if he definitely didn’t want to meet that woman. - It’s on Mifflin Street, the mayor’s house is the largest. You’ll recognize.”  
“No matter who Henry’s mother is”, - I told Emma in a casual tone, - “she’s clearly no less annoying than her son.”

“Mayor! His mom is a fucking mayor! She will put me in jail!” - Emma panicked. She loves to panic in her own brain, especially when there is such a wonderful me, ready to listen, understand and forgive. For the time being, of course, but ... Sometimes I even like it.

“That’s why we come, bearing the cake!”

Notes:  
I thought to write something about Ivan's past in his Fairytale land but that didn't work out because it got to big to put into one chapter so, that's it, the next one will be about eating cake and all that jazz

 

Chapter 3: Raspberry

Summary:  
Nothing changed except one thing  
She wanted nothing but him to bring

Notes:  
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

“I found my real mom!”

The boy screamed, twisting out of the arms of a beautiful dark-haired woman with tears in her eyes, and then the boy tried to rush past the sheriff into the house.

“Stop!”

Emma was fast to react, and I grumbled with contentment something like "idiots need to insert their brains back into their skulls only after the shit they did."

Not only the mother of the boy and the Sheriff, who was looming at the door like an uncertain shadow, were surprised at this roar, but Emma herself. The boy turned and walked in the opposite direction from the door, back to Emma.

“What’s happening?” - his mother asked my ward.

The Mayor wore a power suit or dress or whatever they call it, and the expression on her face was identified by me as something that was characteristic of my wife when she tried not to hit me for that special kind of stupidity, which I showed her completely involuntarily sometimes. Well, it seems that all women with certain powers have this expression in active use.

“Yes, Emma?”

The boy asked, but we were in no hurry to answer, looking at the woman standing opposite, and as soon as one of the eyebrows of the mayor of this town crawled up, Emma shifted her gaze to too insubordinate son.

“Are you all good with memory, kid?” - Emma asked him gently, folding her arms over her chest and raising her eyebrows. - “Less than ten minutes ago, I told you what? Can you repeat? Start with the word "she", please.”

“She is not evil …” - the boy mumbled and looked up, waiting for something.

“Further,” - Emma encouraged him, although those who were looking at the boy at that moment would hardly believe that she was encouraging. - “What did I say next?”

“She is the person who became my family, when you were the very first evil in my life!”

The boy sighed sharply and his face twisted sadly, but he still didn’t cry.

The mayor and, concurrently the dear mother of this blockhead gasped and reached out to embrace her cub. He no longer resisted, although I bet that for some reason he was offended by his mother. Most likely, the thing was precisely that they were making him look crazy because of these fairy tales, and his mother was the initiator of the shrink campaigns. As for me, as long as he does not rush out of the windows, let him believe what he wants, even if it is flying spaghetti.

“It's cruel!” - Henry squeaked, hugging his mother. And he really understood why he was forced to say it, and it was precisely because he understood that, the original goal pursued by Emma failed. He did not cease to reach to us, not physically, but emotionally, he didn't stop it. - “Why do you hate yourself so much?”

“Oh, Good God ...” - Emma rolled her eyes, and I’ve decided to remind her about the cake, so Emma only nodded her head in agreement and turned her face to the boy. - “Go, better take what you left in the car.”

Henry nodded grimly and dashed towards our Beetle full speed - his mother's hands only shrank in the air when she realized that she no longer hugs the little boy by the shoulders. She looked at Emma and smiled, though not really using her eyes in that smile.

“She really is, like a son, good at pretending. From tears to a smile - and that's instantly. The best, isn’t she?” - I drawled, even without expectations on any response from Emma, because she probably already made such a conclusion, but she nevertheless expressed herself.

“And she definitely loves apples. Seriously?” - Emma awkwardly sniffed. - “I smell Montale, Sunset Flowers? Perfume with apple flavor? Well, at least we have the same brand of perfume, and that’s a start! And I thought I’d smell something more… complicated.”

“I suggest you try the best apple cider in your life.” - Mayor said in an absolutely urgent tone, and I was again convinced that powerful women in all worlds are equally peremptory.

“I told you,” - it is not quite clear for me why Emma cheered inside herself to such an extent that she even sincerely smiled at the adoptive mother of her biological son in response and added. - “She is just an incredible fan of damn apples!”

“Well, yes, but if they are not rejuvenating, then what's the point …” - I wondered and Emma snorted at it, continuing to communicate with this apple-lady in the real world.

“Thank you,” - Emma smiled, as if she was high, while looking into the eyes of this woman, - “Henry’s bringing a cake. It’s delicious.”

“Cake?” - the sheriff asked in surprise, already getting closer to the mayor. - “In honor of what event exactly?”

“And what, the day, or rather the night, in which I was lucky to meet my biological son, whom I gave up for adoption a decade ago, is not enough for you as an excuse?” - snapped Emma but then she blurred slightly, meeting the woman’s skeptical gaze, and waved her hand at her face in a denying gesture. - “Okay, okay, it's just my birthday today. Henry rang the doorbell in the midst of my ... ahem ... celebrations, so to speak. I suggested that neither you nor I would want to end the conversation so ambiguously, and I simply wanted to offer to discuss what happened. Nevertheless, I would like to be sure that this will not happen again when I leave. I have a home, a job and a relationship in Boston. What happened today was a little unexpected, you know... By the way, I fed the kid tuna sandwiches with orange juice, no worries here?”

Emma couldn’t say out loud what she told me after her little speech.

“And it would be good for my well being to clarify how exactly Henry was treated in this family, and whether it is necessary to save him from his environment. Anything might happen in this world - even the most pleasant people turn out to be maniacs…”

“She is, according to you, the pleasant?” - I was surprised. - “Rather, she is that kind of strict mommy, controlling everything and everyone …”

“In my opinion, she is fully in line with her position,” - Emma slightly closed her eyes and looked at Henry, dragging the cake and smiling slyly at something. The ice in the eyes of the Mayor somehow melted. - “And you see that she loves him.”

“Sheriff?” - Henry’s mother addressed to the guy in an extremely hinting tone.

“And yes, I will go, I still have night duty, yes, ” - he scratched his head and hurried to close the gate on the other side, finally looking at Emma with a strange expression on his face, but without saying anything.

“Hmm,” - Emma cleared her throat, drawing the attention of both Henry and this woman. - “My name is Emma Swan. Nice to meet you.”

“I am Regina Mills. Mayor of this town. I won’t pretend it was that nice.”

“Oh, her malice erupted, it is as funny as I thought that would be!”

Emma did not restrain a grin, my comment caused, and looked with kindness I never expected, in our new acquaintance’s eyes, but the prickly look was difficult to bear, and she decided to distract this negative attention from herself.

“Henry, would you be able to eat the cake? Still, it’s night already, and you’ve eaten sandwiches.”

“Of course I would, Emma!” - the boy sound surprised. - “I carried it after all!”

Emma slyly turned this around - now the prickly look was on Henry, though that eyes fairly lost its’ intensity.  
“Mom, please!” - he could not resist. - “It smells great! And I'm very tired of looking for Emma in Boston, Mom!”

“Indeed!” - failed not to chuckle Emma, and it was funny, because the kid still carried out her request to sit for a slice of cake with a member of his family. She took the cake from the boy's hands in order to immediately put her nose in the cardboard box in which this work of culinary art was located. - There is a special magic of friendliness and forgiveness in the cakes. And yes, it’s raspberry. Do you like raspberries, Madam Mayor?”

“Magic?” - Regina's eyes widened, and I suddenly realized that she had shaken unreasonably at the word, but then she stopped short and answered the question. - “Please, enter the house, miss Swan. I don’t mind raspberry.”

Notes:  
that chapter is pretty short, but well, that's how it was written, and again - no Belogorye yet

 

Chapter 4: Another Tactics  
Summary:

So they talked and cake they ate.  
Got kicked out quite drunk and late.

 

The raspberry cake had an extremely positive impact on the mood of a woman who initially was absolutely not happy with us. Well, I’d have said, Emma and I never pushed it and demonstrated her our lack of claims. I don’t mean we wouldn’t try it in the future if anything dangerous for the kid would come out, but we had no moral high ground to do that right now. The adoptive mother of our biological son never asked the question about why Emma abandoned the child in front of said child, but that didn’t mean she never wanted to.

In view of the late hour the boy went to bed almost immediately following the second slice of that marvellous cake with the middle layer of raspberry and the top layer of buttercream with crumbled almonds. I had no idea what gods managed to invent that recipe, but that cake was a little masterpiece. Somehow Emma is capable of networking, if she is willing to. That was her ex’s Cake Shop and they broke up without any drama, still seemed to be friends and congratulated each other with all holidays they could remember, except St Valentines.

Something subtly changed in Regina Mills as soon as Henry disappeared on the second floor. He was sure that everything would be quite calm between his adoptive and biological mothers. Personally, I thought that any mother who dared to abandon the child has no right to interfere further. Just once I hinted to Emma about my real opinion, that was right after she had already repented of her deed. Unfortunately, I cannot remember either being in prison with Emma or giving birth, or how she decided to abandon the kid. Well, I can’t say I didn’t warn her before I finally managed to leave her… The moment was awful, as I understand it now. But… Well, I warned my darling idiot a hundred times about the fact that my radar goes off, no, not just goes off, it fucking yelled like cat whose balls got pulled by someone! And that cat-radar-thing was always on when her new acquaintance, and then the guy she slept with was nearby.

I already didn’t give a shit how exactly she was ruining her life, because those days I thought that the faster her body would die, the sooner I could leave to capture some real hero. Actually, I would not be very comfortable being in her body as a full owner, with all that complications and even without fully awakened magic. Better let her die, I thought, poor fellow, because there are people who are rubbish and many more are just sluggish. Well, magic can be awakened - such a surprise really! - in the magical places of power and with the help of a trusted person. And the last one was the greatest problem in that realm. There’s one more option. There are always more options than one, but it hardly helps sometimes. The bearer of magic should be engaged in deliberate suicide attempts with the participation of complex magical enemies, which is not entirely possible here either - the world is ordinary, it seems, not magical, like, at all! And I must admit, I expressed everything I thought about Swan’s stupid teen acts almost as soon as I returned to Emma after our short separation. Not even as a consequence of said separation, but during which she managed, first, to get into an FBI investigation, secondly, get pregnant.

Anyone might ignorantly ask, how that was even possible, if Emma dates women? And, well, it’s not even a question, because she’s not exactly into girls. To be honest, Emma was not heterosexual even in her snotty youth, nor was she a lesbian, no matter how my outlook influenced her emerging character. She was very rarely interested in the sexuality and even the appearance of her intended partner, if we are talking about stable canons grafted by society. It was the pansexuality in such a manifestation that was not very good for Emma herself. That was because Emma had lots of complexes, with which I didn’t seem necessary to fight for the most part, and that shit set the bar low enough for her partners and, accordingly, downgraded Emma herself. It is logical that for me it was oh how profitable, that lack of self-esteem, but sometimes I wanted to bring up a real hero from the canon of a fairy-tale genre, like most princes from classic fairy tales were. But, I'm afraid, the reality wasn’t quite disposed to ensure that I educated Emma for real. And I never raised anyone in any of my lives, I usually had to wait until some major heroism in adulthood, staying somewhere on the sidelines, just looking at the life of the hero and arising in time, but Emma was the case that was even more interesting, than when I ended up in Naruto.

There was just a simple demon there, in the only reality in which I captured the body of the child, and that demon who was planted inside the poor child had nearly crushed my very essence with all his might. By the way, it was then that I made it a rule not to touch children and their formation as heroes, because you never know what might occur. At the same time, my, in some way, rapprochement with the ward of mine was due to the fact that my heart wasn’t hardened enough, and I never saw anything special in it - to reassure the little girl, who was paying me back with crumbs of the magic, which she periodically threw out. And that gave me the opportunity to gain mobility and dump that relationship to hell. I was hoping to wait until the child would get tired of playing oh so independent lady and fulfills certain gestures conceived by fate, as I hoped would be better than just a mere non-magical world with lack of high-tech as well. Of course, it never reached extremes, but to have something intimate with that asshole… The one I would approve only in a hospital bed, and that setting would’ve happened by combining my fist with his jaw. I told her to punch his pervert balls right after the very first meeting with him. Oh yes, it was the highest degree of the very self-deprecation inherent in Emma in her early years.

Yes, and do something in defiance - we obviously can do it, we definitely know how, so we practice it, hell yes, Emma Swan. Although, as I’ve already said, everything that my ward creates before his or her heroism is, more often than not, what brings him or her to this heroism. Information, so to speak, is time-tested and the number of repetitions is remarkable. So, the face of Regina Mills subtly changed as soon as Henry went out of sight and hearing. She rose from the table and motioned for Emma to follow her.

“Cider,” the woman lightly poured alcohol into glass cups, but I whispered to Emma that we need to defuse the situation somehow. - “You are welcome.”

“Do you want me to stay overnight?” - Emma grinned, sipping a drink.

“What do you mean?” - Regina looked at my ward with quite perceptible hostility. - “I don’t think that you will spend the night in this house.”

“Whatever.” Emma almost blew out the entire glass, oh so kindly filled by the foster mother of her long-lost son, I barely felt the taste, because I was absorbed in analyzing the woman’s reaction to Emma’s words. - “I just drank alcohol, and if you are a hospitable hostess, you are unlikely to expel a person into the night, and expect that person to drive along some dark slippery road after the rain in state Maine…”

“There is a hotel in the town,” Regina shrugged, barely holding her palms - they seemed to tremble, I think, in order not to throw all her cider out of her glass into Emma’s face. - The hotel is pretty close. And the rain has never melted people in that region of the US. My hospitality has it’s limits, so…”

The last phrase sounded so threatening that Emma flinched. She even took a half step back, but there was something for her to find out from Regina. Therefore, my ward threw away the vague sensations whispering about the imminent danger to both of us, and changed the subject, making an offer that was hard to refuse.

“Madam Mayor, may we finally finally discuss what happened to Henry?”

“Let's go to the office, Miss Swan, we'll talk there. But it seemed to me that you have no right to care…”

The woman inquisitively looked at Emma, after suddenly turning around. She was about to put my ward in a very much awkward position. Swan’s eyes found something to watch out for when such a gorgeous woman was climbing the stairs, and it was not so easy for Emma to pretend that she was looking a little higher than Regina’s loins, and not lower.

“No, of course not,” - Emma rejected any accusations, - “I just do not want that to happen again, only next time might be much worse. You know, I can imagine what’s happening in the mind of an adopted child. Unfortunately.”

“Have you been abandoned?”

“She’s not familiar with the word “tactfully”” - I stated, and Emma sighed agreeing that way with me and having no coherent thoughts on the matter.

“And I was not so lucky with my parents as Henry.” - In one breath said Emma and conciliatory shrugged before entering the office at Regina invitation gesture.

“What do you mean, Miss Swan?” - Regina said with obvious curiosity. And that was said exactly for the maintenance of the conversation, because she probably wasn’t interested in anything of the life of the person she merely despised, no matter how she tried to cover it with indifference. I felt it in my guts. - Have you been abandoned for several times instead of one?

“You …” - Emma sighed abruptly and stumbled. “You are amazingly ingenious, mayor.”

“Usually, if they took the child, they can give it away, ” - Regina shrugged her shoulders and opened the door. - “We went through the procedure of full adoption. And you did not want contact. And you have no right to demand it.”

“I demand nothing” - Emma walked into the room and sat down on the sofa near the coffee table. - It’s Henry who demands. I think that one of his whims can be fulfilled by you and me both. It’s easy to be disappointed in me in a couple of days, and I will hardly be here any longer. It’s quite a sober assessment of my qualities, you know. He has the right to believe that I just never needed him, and because of this I put him into adoption. Roughly speaking, this is exactly what happened.”

“Hmmm …” - the mayor put down her glass of cider and slightly tilted her head to the side. - “It will be easier for me if you tell me the details. And I myself will assess whether Henry should know that details. Do you agree?”

“If ...” Emma jarred, and she remembered my characterization of this controlling Madame, and then continued to speak out loud, “You really need this so much, huh? Control over his life...”

“You may not understand this, Miss Swan,” - I traced an undoubtful grin in her tone - “But this is a necessary maternal care, until he grew up. You do not have the slightest right to get into our lives. And if I'm still going to give you …”

“Uh, no,” - Emma twisted her index finger in a negative gesture, interrupting Regina. - ”It doesn't work that way. I told you that the boy himself wants it. And if he's half as good as I was at his age, and at the same time he’s so sure of himself that he found me contrary to common sense, then he’ll do what he wishes. I think with Henry, Madam Mills, just like with me, you’d need a slightly another tactic.

Mayor Mills was barely holding back the facepalm. Or maybe not a facepalm but a facefist to Emma’s face, really. My beloved ward sometimes seemed to possess a very thick bone in the area of the frontal lobe. Of course, we didn’t have the right to intervene in the life of the kid, but in order to understand at least something of what actually happened in the boy’s life, it is quite necessary not to engage in prohibited stalkering, but to agree on any terms of the real mother of our child so that the child did Not decide that the whole world is against him and did Not run off somewhere else, not to Emma, but to a much less secure environment. The result was supposed to be, like, the Mayor Mills need to have that feeling that all she had to do was just to suffer this crazy woman a little, I mean, Emma and I as I am crazy of her woman or something, and then after that little bit of suffering everything will be fine. And, of course, Swan masterfully turned the situation around, and if it were not her son’s fault, I would even be proud a bit.

“Listen, swan. Do you think that if a boy is exposed to something like domestic violence… would he have a hard time?!”

“She doesn’t look like a person who’s able to beat a beloved child for his own good,” - digging deep into the nature of relationships of this kind, but at the same time being extremely sarcastic, said Emma and added. - “I always hear when you call me a bird. There is a certain difference in the translation of your thoughts into mine, I hear something like Swan the Bird, I told you already. And warned that I did not like it!”

“Yes, of course,” - I grinned, - “there are no other problems except for discussing nicknames. In which, I note, again, my cygnet, I’m gonna call you as I wish because you can’t run away from yourself...”

“Shut up. I pray thee, I am both fuckin’ funny and want to swear. She will not understand if I don’t keep my face neutral!”

“Well, then keep it.” - I advised, and yet I fell silent, as she asked.

Next five minutes were like… In the real world, a whole epic of verbal struggle unfolded for the right to be in this glorious town. Emma was sure of what she was going to do and claimed that she was Not going to get involved either in the relationship between her son and his other mother, or in the senseless and merciless altercations about whether he could be in her company at all. She simply stopped the bickering - Regina Mills started it actually at the time of our inside dialogue, disguised as reverie in the reality. The mayor felt some detachment in Emma's behavior and decided to seize the moment.

“You have no right to tell me how to behave with my son! You recklessly abandoned Henry in the past, and whatever your reasons, you have no right ...”

“Wait, I just take care for the boy!” - Emma allowed herself to interrupt this stream of polite translation of obviously obscene thoughts and continued, under the scornful gaze of Regina Mills. - “Yes, it turned out that I had to give him up for adoption. There are times when you need to decide how it will be better. And after seeing where he is now, I still think that it was better “- aha, girl, you caress her ego, keep it up, the corners of Mills' lips just started in a smug grin, but I noticed. - “I’m not trying to re-establish a maternal connection with him, Madame Mills.” Understand me, I did not come here myself - this child brought me to your town. And I would very much like, first, to understand why that happened and, second, honestly, it frightened me that he went so easily and naturally to look for me in Boston! Damn Boston Regina! Boston is in another state since 1820 for fuck’ sake!”

“I think that I’m quite able to convince my son not to do this in the future ... And I’m quite able to make you go back to where you are from and tell my, ” - she emphasized again, as if we hadn’t said anything here before on this account, - “son, so that he no longer seeks to meet you, because you don’t want it. After all, you really do not need it, Miss Swan. What is this all for?”

“I think you don’t quite understand that he shouldn’t feel betrayed again. Yes, you are unlikely to meet me again if you do this, but ... ahem ... the child will not be easier, I assure you. Instead of driving him to therapy, you could’ve…”

“How do you know about therapy ?!” - the mayor snapped to a harsh tone, and Swan soothingly raised her palms in a sign of surrender to the mercy of the enemy.

“Oh darling, calm down! We just met Archie on the square in front of the clock tower - an evening walk with the dog, and it became clear that Henry went to the sessions for him just after a minute of observing their communication!”

“All right,” - the fists of this woman were already unclenched, but we were a little wary because of that breakdown - you never know, would these failures also extend to Henry too? - “What did you want to say?”

“You can just solve the problem, and not analyze and pick it out. This is exactly what any psychotherapist does when the patient has no desire to get rid of the problem. And Henry obviously has no such desire. He is a fighter. Does not run.”

“He does not run?” - Mayor slightly mockingly looked at Emma, waiting for clarification. - “What are you talking about?”

“Henry found me, didn’t run away from certain doubts. He may think that he may not be needed. Even if he is hiding behind these fairy tales, he simply had to change something in this life, to make sure that he was needed. That is what I understood from his speeches on the way to this town, and you know …”

“Stories?” - Mills alerted, interrupting my ward. - “What stories?”

“The boy is kinda addicted to classic fairy tales.” - Emms kinda told the truth but I really saw it differently, and well I really thought to stop her because that controlling mommy might dispose of such info the way it might hurt the boy. - “It’s no big deal” - she continued. - “Say thanks to the Universe, he’s not following the comics and the anime. You see, believing in Snow White singing songs with birds and bunnies is much better than believing in punishing villains in the name of the Moon or Dr. Strange and all that I am Batman business…”

“Hmmmm” - .discouraged by Emma’s joking attempt, the mayor decided to pay attention to the obviously familiar name - and I really don’t know if there are people who don’t know that name. - “Snow White? How is she ... I mean, how is Snow White from a fairy tale related to Henry's behavior?”

Emma let pass that slip and I didn’t really pay attention to that either, but Regina’s fists were clenched again for a few seconds.

"A strange reaction. Hates fairy tales much? Realist to the bone? Would break you on the wheel for your love of Harry Potter books? Any of these explanations is complete nonsense, but something alerted me all the same. And so far I do not know what, but I am going to find out … Although, probably it’s just boy’s fantasy. She might be just an ordinary woman, even though the mayor. And Henry can just invent a fairy-tale world for himself. After all, this world really differs little from previous worlds like it in magical content, as far as I could find out. There are places - and nothing more. But it wouldn’t hurt to go to the local cemetery and check the background; it can even turn on the absorption of magic, if there is something special we can find, Emma.”

“Hey, slow down, old man! We're not going to stay here for long, are we? Or do you think something has changed? Make sure that she is not crazy or psychic, and go home.”

“Yes, Emma, yes. I'm just thinking.”

“Make your thoughts a bit quieter!”

She didn’t hold a displeased grimace under the mask of calm that she had previously held, and therefore the mayor slightly changed her tone to a more oppressive one — it was a natural reaction.

“You know, Miss Swan, for some reason I don't care much for this other tactics of yours already. Because this is my son. And I know what he wants. Always knew.”

“And I know what teenagers are thinking about, ” - Emma objected tiredly and rolled an empty glass in her palm. The hint was understood and Regina, with a theatrical sigh, poured them one more portion of her cider. - This particular teenager is still worthy not to think that he is not needed. It’s the least I can do for you.”

“For us? “ - Regina was as surprised as I was, but I would wait for Emma to explain, but this woman was less patient. - “What does that mean “for you”? For me and Henry? Or just for me? I don't need anything from you!”

“For you,” - Emma looked into her eyes, and I suddenly realized that I feel heat, spreading in my chest and getting to my throat, and Emma cannot suppress a half smile when she realizes how her body reacted to this piercing and even evil look while she was saying such intimate words to the other mother of the child. - “Because you were the one who gave him a better life than I could ever give. I can't thank you in any other way. It seems to me that giving the boy what he wants is the least I can do to improve your relationship. He may not understand, but he began to look for me because you are probably a busy person, you probably forbid him something and definetely control him. And that's fine. And at this age, rebellion is also normal, it just forms character. And now it seems to him that I can be ... I don’t know, something better? He idealizes me, and that's okay too …”

“What are you, a shrink? - Mills wedged into the arising pause and grinned at her assumption. - “Not likely.”

“No,” - Emma did not restrain a giggle, and they again met their eyes, and I again suddenly was aware of how Emma feels, it was always when feelings just went beyond ordinary, but I felt, of course, less than Emma herself. - “I am a bounty hunter with childhood, directly related to the adoption system. Psychologists in my life were ... more than necessary.”

“And you grasped them from the inside, ” - Mills nodded, to which my ward only snorted and there was a pause until. - “Pardon me, but I’d like you to finally speak out, Miss Swan.”

“I just... It’s not normal that he will become distant from the closest person in his life. He might lose his shit when he grows up a bit and he’d always have the feeling he’s not needed. Since you are unlikely to be removed from the post of mayor, you will still solve the problems of the town, not the problems of the child. Simply feeding and clothing - never enough, you know. You can get into a bad company, accidentally commit a crime ... Or not by accident. But I believe in your prudence. And I still ask you not to put pressure on the kid, he is already having a hard time with this truth about me. Especially, when that truth he doesn’t even know, he does not know the whole story, Madam Mayor. And, I assure you, in this case, forcing him to stop communicating with me will be an achievement of only a short-term goal.”

“It won't remove the problem,” - Regina looked somewhere over the top of Emma's head, wondering - “Oh, well. You… I believe in your... Another tactics."

 

Chapter 5: The Night

Summary:  
There was a moonless night...

Spending the night in the backseat of our Beetle is not something to expect from a seemingly normal ending of the evening with a relatively pleasant conversation with the mayor of a small town in the wilds of Maine, is it?

As a result, Emma and I - she’s a little tipsy, and I’m a little discouraged - we are going on sly through the town. It all seems suspicious, you know. When Regina Mills subtly asked if she should worry about Henry's father, I literally forced my dear ward to say that she could call the boy's father if this a little bit imbalanced woman would like so.

Sometimes Emma can be a huge slowpoke when it comes to such a long con, like the one I thought of, making this Mills think that Emma can still somehow claim to be Henry’s mother, despite all our assurances that this won’t happen. After all, if Mills does not twitch, then all our stay here really ends extremely unproductive and quickly. Emma won’t stay if she feels the kid is loved. True, Emma very much regrets putting the kid for adoption, but it was too long for us not to cope with her self-blame much earlier than the kid showed up. So, on the part of Emma, Regina never really had a problem, and we would quickly ride back to Boston, regardless of the strange town and its inhabitants, and I urgently needed to come up with something to keep us here for a longer time. A confrontation with the adoptive mother of this tiny piglet, who, by a misunderstanding, considers himself our son, would be reason enough for Emma to stay. She is a keen and stubborn person.

Here in this town I need time to find my salvation from being only nearby the body of my ward, because I don’t really want to kill her if that heroism I've been waiting for begins. Well, I just could not wait for twenty eight years of her life for it to begin but…

Everything is too strange, because I definitely remember, and Emma just didn’t yet add the pieces to the puzzle. The little Us happened to be found in this particular area in the state of Maine.  
As soon as it reaches Emma’s dimwit brain, it will be even easier to convince her to stay here, leaving her not quite miserable life in Boston and moving into these still waters with magical stink.

After all, I still feel this... Not just some obscure strangeness of this town, I kinda recognized something dormant and at the same time immensely familiar. I felt it a long time ago while in my travels as still a disgraced prince I wandered into the City of Masters on the border with the Infinite Forest and couple of Distant Kingdoms.  
It housed a rarely used portal supposedly leading to other realities and parts of the world, but usually it was connected to the Tower of Silence, which was used at that time to expel those who had problems with those who were in power in my realm. That tower actually belonged to the Princess Nesmeana, the One Who Never Laughs, the great grandmother of mine, The Immortal Stone Princess.

She was called such a nickname in ancient times, when the curse of the Stone Heart was in action and it fettered her feelings, when she was the sovereign of the Dark Forest, she was the daughter of one of the ancient Yaga and the strongest witch of her time, and of mine too actually. By my time she had already settled down and turned soft, it became possible when she returned her fiery heart and felt the heart-ache for the first time in hundreds of years. That story is long and I don’t have much to say about it, I was not there and I did not eat bread there, as they say in The Thirty Realms. [ Authors Note: that’s the saying you say if you want to admit that you have no idea what you’re talking about but you still try. It’s related to the other saying that shows that you’re going to tell something that’s hard to believe in but you still try. “I certainly was there, Mead and wine I drank, I swear; Though my whiskers bathed in wine, Nothing passed these lips of mine.” ]

That blood relation to the Princess, by the way, once upon a time allowed me to positively participate in the skirmish that was extremely profitable for me at that time and also allowed me to receive the support of the City of Masters in my claims for throne in the Distant Kingdoms. I managed to save those who were in opposition to the acting regional government of one of sovereigns, they still existed those days.

It was from the City of Masters that my conquest began at the time...

Meh. Well, this is not what I’m talking about right now. The city of Masters was at the crossroads of worlds and, as we the poor inhabitants of a world without magic say, it was more magical than real. Here everything seemed diametrically opposed, although in its own way similar - the fairy tale was only in the air, and now it wasn’t so unattainable to get to Magic.

The portal to the Tower was through the well, and I never tried to go to other worlds - I had other things on my mind, but it is worth looking for something similar to that well here. Here's the problem - as long as I'm so tightly attached to Emma it's just hard to do. And the last time I separated from her …

First of all, everything did not end too well, and I still think that partially I was to blame for what happened with that jerk Neal and with that giving the child up thing. After all, if I had not disappeared for such a long time after she fell in love with that dull dude …

And I would not have disappeared if it weren’t for that very “second of all”, which goes after “first of all” by the default.

Second of all, I tried to seize Emma’s body. As you can see from the result, I did not succeed.

I remember, it was also a restless and half-drunk night …

***

“Well, hello, Emma,” - I said to Swan, who had not yet realized anything, while she peered into my eyes with all curiosity she had in her and tried as if to absorb my face in her memory.

“Hi ... You are ... Old man, right? Don’t look like the old one. Why you never correct me if you look like thirty years old? Where are we?” - she bombarded me with questions, looking around, but I looked at her point blank until she finally stopped talking and looked back, asking the most important one. - “Why are we here?”

A green steppe stretched around us, an almost boundless and life-giving plain, familiar to me from times of travel and conquest. The steppe united three states - the Golden, Silver and Bronze Realms. Where the Three Wise Lady-Sorceress ruled since time immemorial, and that land was called Wonderful, because their castles were - one’s more beautiful than the other and besides in the colors inherent in the name of each kingdom, and in the castles those were gardens of magical plants, and in the middle of that steppe was the source of healing water, it was also called the Death Water. A tidbit, if you look at it like that ... Meh, wasn’t going to go there now.

“Because I'm sick of enduring it,” - I came closer to her, without meeting the slightest resistance of the surprised girl, and put my hand into her chest, squeezing the pulsating heart with the usual gesture.

She looked back with pain and incomprehension, so vaguely familiar and unpleasant to me, that I decided to remain silent and finish it as quickly as possible, tugging at the focus of her power.

The next moment I was blinded by a bright light, and the steppe turned around, then whitish magic began to shimmer, cast in gold, but cold ... And then I discovered my spirit, barely dense and quite visible, outside of my girl’s sleeping body.

Next to Emma, Neal Cassidy slept, whom I hated with every bit of my soul, because it was because of him that I made the decision.

She wasn’t even eighteen yet - it was not by my rules. She should’ve never fallen in love so much. My reaction even reminded me of some kind of irrational jealousy. Irrational because I was dead for a long time and never even supposed to respond to the romantic relationship of my, let's say, random transit point, but no, I was ready to devour her and kill her just because of that relationship. It would be extremely strange if it weren’t for the constant vague feeling that slipped into me gradually… I had to prevent the continuation of that relationship, because I was seized with fear every time I imagined that I’d stop playing the primary role in her life, she would gain more power and get rid of me.

And now she knows that I am not her friend anymore, and I don’t have much magic left.

I touched her forehead and measured exactly half of the remaining mana on the spell.

The condition is… She will remember only when she finds true love and a dear soul in the world, which is saturated with magic no less than my own, and will share the kiss of true love with that person. It will never happen, will it? Indeed, in this world there is almost no magic.

My limbs grew dim, and I became fully disembodied again. But it's worth it - I now have where to come back. And now I’ll let her be alone. Now she remembers only that we shouted at each other, and I left her, promising to return someday.

And I came back when she called. And then, too, was the night. That night Henry was born.

“His father’s name is John,” Emma said, noticing me behind the midwife who was holding the baby — I was only visible to her, and she looked into my eyes with regret and pain, so that my heart would have sank in if I had a the body and the heart. - “John Oldman.”

“You screwed up my name,” - I said and smiled like I shouldn't have smiled.

I looked at her face with an undoubtedly noticeable painful tenderness I felt, and she smiled encouragingly at me - even now she remained the same Emma, whom I would never touch or try to do what I did, my baby Emma, whom it was impossible not to adore. And I touched her cheek.

She began to cry, still smiling shyly, and she snuggle up to my hand, forgetting that I’d been dead long ago, and the child had been taken away - I had not even looked in his direction.

“Honey, hush. Hush, do not cry. We'll figure something out. We always come up with something.”

“I gave up the kid,” - she whispered. - “I didn’t think you’ll appear. Together we’d come up with something.”

“I also didn’t think I’d appear,” - I touched her forehead with my lips and then pressed my palms to her cheeks, looking into her dilated pupils. - “Take me back again. Forgive me. Is he already impossible to?..”

“Impossible,” - she closed her eyes and began to cry softly again, barely sobbing and swallowing tears.

I hugged her and disappeared again, losing my freedom.

Before that I looked through the prison hospital window.

There was a moonless night

 

Chapter 6: The Flesh

Summary:

In the forest by the Well  
Things were going straight to Hell...

Notes:  
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

 

“Ems,” - I called. - “Do you remember how he was born? And why?”

“I could’ve listened to you, and he wouldn’t be born,” - she stopped the car and told me. - “I don’t regret. Now - just not anymore. Where next?”

“Come on. It is in the forest.”

So we did.

At that moment, when we reached the well - I almost knew that it would be a well, because it was like that in the City of Masters - we saw the clouds gathered over the city. Such clouds promised to give out more rain, perhaps in the morning. The moon looked out the darkness in the sky and illuminated Emma, who was already peering inside the well. I caught a glimpse of water.

“So what?”

“Now,” - I separated from Emma, not without effort and spending a lot of energy on it, but I did. - Hi, darling.

She silently looked at me for the first few seconds - in her eyes I saw disbelief at first, then timidity, and then she tried to hang herself on my neck, but I held her back, putting my hand into her chest.

“What? ..” - She looked blankly at what I was doing, and sighed, her hands on her hips. - “Well, you’re such a shit, you could just say that you’re still intangible!”

“Well, at least you can hear me in the real world,” - I moved my fingers between her ribs, making her giggle. - “What?”

“You like touching my guts, you know. It’s certainly unpleasant, but it was just ticklish.”

“Ticklish, well then…”

I remember the last time I tried to pull out her heart, and it seemed to me quite likely that now, if I try to do the same, there will also be a surge of magic that I could use to wake up this source. I won't even have to kill her then, will I? I’d just use magic, become denser and find my way back, then I will return at the time of my first death - this source is capable of such a travel, I can feel it! And it won’t be that far to search for the healing water and the life-giving water, because if my spirit shall fall into that world of mine, half the work will be done. It’s settled, I’m gonna try then.

Well, in other worlds, if you take the first few of my migrations, gaining density due to the magic of the carrier of my spirit always worked, but unfortunately I always kinda died when my original bearer died, and then I finally got tired of losing so much time and moral strength on so that this very bearer would find a place from which it would be possible to feed off to such an extent, and then that bearer should not finish himself off with his own heroism to live and let live.  
But now I'm going to use this portal, and the smack of the magic of this place reminds me of my world and, I think, has some connection with it. And this is logical - There are fairytales about me in the ordinary world, aren’t they?

“I’ll try to attack you right now,” - I warned her, and she cringed all over, but so far her gaze expressed a lack of understanding and a desire for me to explain everything to her in more detail. - “You will release a response magic, it’s going to work by itself, it will be an instinct, and then I will use it to awaken this source at least for a while. I think it’ll work out, because your magic is strong enough, and this town already displayed enough about its magic … and if you want to feel dramatic, its fairy nature.

“So it's all true?” - She spoke softly, and it made me frown. - “Attack. Do what it takes for you ... I want you to be alive, old man.”

“Do you have any idea how it sounds?” - I grinned. - “Still, you are the heroine as expected, so sick in the brain, my birdie.”

“You helped me with your presence, old man,” - she wiped a tear from her cheek, and I slightly tilted my head to continue to look into her eyes, I studied her and still couldn’t understand why she respects me so much, even when it’s understandable that if I hadn’t left her alone with that jerk Neil, nothing would’ve happened. - “And now you will help even more. You reminded me of that day not in vain.”

“What do you mean?” - I frowned and a moment later identified the very transformation of Emma, which I cannot stand - from a gentle bird with wet eyes to a cunning little monster.

She smirked just like I do — I saw that grin so many times in the mirror, in every life of mine.

“If you’ll be alive, I’d be able to introduce you to her as his father. You are John Oldman, haven't you forgotten?”

I silently and almost definitely viciously pulled her heart towards myself and again felt the helplessness that had befallen me when I did it the very first time. Me and this magic, which I had - because I was ready - to begin to absorb, was thrown right into the well. The water enveloped me with warm magic, and the light that Emma’s heart threw out finally merged with the sleeping magic of a local source.

I knew what to do. It was the magic of legends, the one that pervaded my home world, the one that could fulfill any wish without even asking for an immediate price, as any of its extant conduits would do. And I decided, oh yes, I immediately decided what I’ll ask for. But it was already asked for me and made a wish for me - and it was the mistress of that magic.

Emma enshrined me in the flesh.

Notes:  
I'm waiting for any reaction really, do I need to continue, or you're not interested and my translation isn't good enough? You can say whatever you'd like to, I'm basically made of water so I won't cry, I'll collect it for my dog's 12th birthday.

Chapter 7: Father

Summary:  
Changes came both day and night.  
Who's the friend and who is right?

Notes:  
Just read it i'm lmao

I frantically clutched at the edge of the well and pulled myself up so that in the next moment the elbow of my other hand was completely outside, just like my probably unusually tense face was. However, I had to unexpectedly swim in the musty water of a well because of some incomprehensible magical perturbations that occurred a little earlier, when I had already tried once to climb up. Literally snorting the dirt and at the same time conjuring up decent clothes with my thoughts, I completely pulled my body onto the edge of the well and then sat down on it to look at what I would step on before lowering my legs to the ground. Magic is magic, but a stone in the heel is not very pleasant to get - I’m bare feet now, I always had problems calling the whole set at the same time, for some reason I separated clothes and shoes in my head, oh well…

My thoughts were interrupted by weird ohs and ahs, the sound of Emma's voice and other feminine one I did not recognize. But then I identified the sound of a burning fireball - it appeared in the palm of Regina Mills, as I managed to notice when I froze like a rook under her stern look. I knew that something was wrong with her! Although somehow, in principle, everything's just not right. Now it’s day and it was night! We were alone in this forest with Emma, and now there is a whole delegation here, moreover consisting of people I don’t know at all. In general, a strange scene appeared before me, and frankly, what was going on gave me a feeling of being stoned.

The woman seemed quite fresh and self-confident only a couple of hours ago, even though she wept slightly at the time of the meeting with Emma and me, and now she was almost lying on the ground, leaning on a tree, while she successfully threatened me being in that position, but this didn’t cancel the presence of shadows under her eyes. Just as she did, some man unknown to me tensed, clutched at some vaguely magical cane, at the ready. This man stank of the Koschey Realm by a mile, but it was still muffled, otherwise I couldn’t ever resist and would’ve attacked - this is the first thing any king or prince must do with the undead, even such a prince long ago parted with the honor like me. And that’d be okay if it wasn’t muffled for a reason. I simply couldn’t ignore the echoes of the deadly force, but no one seemed to notice this - they were staring at me only, even Emma, as if she didn’t recognize me.

I looked around at all of those present, including a tall, long-haired girl, who was in the tight embrace of a pretty brunette with short hair. I got vaguely interested in a somehow familiar smack of magic of that tall girl. Also, I did not ignore the attention of the open-mouthed Henry, who clung to Emma. The boy looked somehow different than I remembered him.

“Emma,” - I frowned and focused my eyes on my ward, with whom, thank Gods, all possible fights for the body shell were successfully passed and therefore I could relax in communication with her and even, perhaps, teach something good. After all, she’ll be able to share the magic with me, I already felt it in her, and the stronger she is, the stronger I will become. - “What is this delegation? And what is Henry doing here?”

I tried not to show emotion, but I couldn't help but chuckle, which somehow alerted Emma. Well my grin can't be that unnerving, can it?

“Who are you?! “ - Henry could not stand his own curiosity and in response to his question at once he received several reactions from the people present, which explained a lot to me in turn.

“Do not talk to him!” - Regina screamed, and then for some reason her fireball went out, apparently, she’s not quite good at magic, since she loses control that easy.

“How do you know his name, answer me!” - a girl with short hair ended a hug with her friend and pulled a sword in my direction. Where from did she get it?

Although I myself could not refrain from answering Henry’s question, after all, Emma and I had long ago agreed on who I was for this boy, hadn’t we?

What I didn’t know was that I should've kept silent and found out Emma’s reaction to my presence, as she stood, you know, opening and closing her mouth without any word, I thought she was so happy about the arrival of her permanent best friend, the dimwit swan, but no. But at that moment I knew nothing and, by clicking my fingers, I called alligator leather oxfords with thick soles into my hands, because I’d always preferred shoes with a small heel since my first life, there were simply no other high-quality boots. I’ve put my eyes on these shoes specifically long ago, last month, when Emma surfed the web in search of a new leather jacket, the last one almost got shredded on a job. I got into them, stomped a couple of times and laced 'em up with the power of thought — I guessed the right size, thank the gods.

Then I slightly bent my back to look into the eyes of the boy, which is why for some reason Emma and everyone else were twitching, and in the end I simply said that cherished lie we had sort of prepared long before the night of my revival.

“Henry, I am your father.”


End file.
